This side of normal
by Madre de Muerte
Summary: Crossover with Smallville. Harry visits some relatives he knew nothing about, the Kents.
1. Chapter 1

Title: This side of normal

Crossover: Harry Potter/Smallville

Disclaimer: I own nothing yada, yada, yada. Several companies own Superman and its many incarnations including the recent Smallville and JKR owns Harry Potter and the various companies that have bought rights, etc. I am in no way affiliated with any companies or authors. Yada, yada, etc.

"BOY!" Vernon Dursley called, at the top of his lungs toward his freak-of-nature nephew Harry James Potter. The sully fourteen year old looked up from sweeping.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" He rasped with a voice full of something, not quite tangible. Vernon narrowed his eyes and thought over the tone for a brief second. Vernon didn't like it. It sounded like something or whatever --Ah yes!—_angst!_ Vernon Dursley narrowed his eyes even more. Vernon believed he appeared intimidating; Harry thought his uncle had gas and wisely decided to scoot a ways away. Vernon grinned, believing it added to his maniacal, dangerous, threatening looks, but Harry thought it was his uncle suppressing the urge to pass gas until he was alone. At least Harry hoped so because the last time Harry was caught in the room with his uncle and cousin… Let's just say that Harry would rather fight Voldemort and 3 Death Eaters alone than go through that experience ever again.

"Your Aunt Martha wants to see _you_ this summer." He stated spitting strongly. Harry looked confused, he had no idea he had another aunt. His face must have given him away, "Idiot! Martha is your mother's second cousin twice removed on her father's mother's third cousin's side of the family! You've met her twice, you were five and sick, I remember because she smacked me when I refused to give you a bigger cover. The other time was with _her._"

Harry nodded, wondering if 'her' was his mother, and was mostly confused about his relationship with Aunt Martha. "You're going to visit her. You have two days."

"Two days?" Harry squeaked incredulous. Vernon didn't bother to answer. Harry dropped the broom (ignoring the screech his aunt gave behind him as she was eavesdropping through the kitchen window) and rushed up stairs. He didn't know what to do. Looking at his owl, Hedwig, he decided to write. His letter was lengthy and angsty with the heralding news.

"Hedwig, girl, I need you to take—Hey where are you going?" Harry demanded as his owl flew away. As loyal as Hedwig was, she did not dare touch the letter. "Hedwig!" Harry grumbled and looked at his note, he was sure Sirius would care right? He was his godfather and he asked him to write but what now? Hedwig didn't care. Harry brooded.

Hedwig later returned and a great battle ensued. Harry conquered but not before being nipped and scratched a mere 2 dozen or so times. Later in life, when Harry was beyond senile and insane, his autobiography recounted the tale on page 641 and took up 17 pages, but that's another story.

Hedwig flew away in shame but with the letter. Harry proceeded to pack just in case, and most likely situation, him getting sent to his 'aunt'.

Sirius' reply was brief but enough to startle Harry.

_Harry,_

_I've talked to Dumbledore. Your mother's protection will still extend with Martha since she is from your mother's blood. I'll be seeing you, as the Yanks don't really care much about an escaped deranged convict that people haven't seen in a year. _

_In fact, I remember your aunt, lovely girl. _

_Snuffles_

Wait a minute, Yank?

Harry quickly ran downstairs to interrupt the pre-dinner meal the family was so fond of.

"What is it boy?" Vernon inquired sure that it involved Martha.

"Aunt Martha is a Yank?"

Petunia's face tightened and contorted. "Yank! Have you no respect? I thought that at least we'd taught you some semblance of manners! _ Yes, Martha is an American! _Go! Get out of my sight; I don't want to see you until dinner! Just wait until…"

Harry left, ignoring his aunt's raving calls. He smiled; he'd never been out of the United Kingdom before.

Two days later, Metropolis International Airport

Martha Kent, Jonathon Kent, and Clark Kent tirelessly waited for the arrival of Martha's nephew. It had been years since Martha had heard or seen anything about Harry so she had decided to invite him and was eager to see him again. When a thin, messy haired boy arrived into view, Martha knew it was him, Harry was the exact (well, almost) copy of James.

"Harry!" Martha excitedly called as she ran forward with the other two males following.

Harry looked up and smiled. His Aunt Martha had not been what he was expecting, in fact, it was the exact opposite; Harry had been expecting another Aunt Petunia but what he had ended up with was rather a lovely older woman that looked like she'd give you cookies before yelling at you. Harry felt his shock warm his frozen heart, not that Harry had much of one.

He looked behind her and noticed the two others standing behind her, looking at him with the same amount of interest. "Hello, I'm Harry, Aunt Martha." He introduced because he felt it was necessary.

Martha gave a small shake of his head. "You haven't stopped calling me that have you?" Harry looked uncertain of what to say. Martha frowned. "Didn't Petunia tell you?"

"Uh, I just learned you existed to say the truth." Harry explained nervously.

Martha frowned but nodded. "I'm going to kill Petunia," She muttered quickly under her breath. Clark looked sharply at his mother and knew this was one of the rare times his mother was indeed angry. "That's all right Harry. I'm Martha, cousin or aunt but you called me that the first time you saw me. I'm now sure why but it stuck. This," She said pointing to the older man, "is my husband Jonathon."

Jonathan stepped forward to shake hands. Harry shook it weakly but was glad that it wasn't an overly vigorous shake. "Harry, you can call me Jonathan, if you want. Nice to meet you finally." He said with a grin. "I wasn't there when Martha went off to see you, I had to stay and take care of our son, Clark. Clark," His father intoned in the Remember-You-Have-A-Secret-Identity tone.

Clark smiled nervously before nodding to his father. "Harry," He greeted politely. He reached for a handshake.

"Clark," He replied meeting his hand. He suppressed a wince as his hand was squeezed. Merlin, his cousin shook as hard as Hagrid!

Martha was beaming all throughout the small exchange. Harry was such a different boy but he was going to need new clothes. The poor boy, Martha felt her blood boil, oh yes, she was going to murder Petunia. Until then Harry was her first concern outside her immediate family.

"Come one boys, the ride back is a long one!" Jonathan looked rather happy to be leaving Metropolis.

"But mom," Clark complained, "Harry hasn't seen Metropolis!" He winced inwardly; he hoped Harry didn't think he was a whiner. He recalled the incident with the red meteorite and nearly winced externally.

Martha frowned, Jonathan sighed while looking at Harry. The boy looked at them with so much expectancy. "We don't have the money for it Clark," He looked at Harry and sighed before giving a small smile to both boys, "but I don't think it'd hurt to spend a little more time here. Right Martha?"

Martha smiled. "Of course not. Harry do you want to? It's all up to you." She stated hoping that the boy didn't feel pressured.

Harry smiled widely. It was one of the first times family had asked what he wanted to do. He smiled wider, and was once again glad his dad was loaded; this would give him some time for souvenirs.

"Please!" He cried enthusiastically. "I don't mean to impose, but I can pay for the stay if it gets too late." The Kents looked ready to protest but Harry held up his hands. "It's no problem, really. Please? I'd sort of like to make it a gift for you inviting me for the summer." Harry defended.

Clark stared, wondering how much money Harry had but decided he wouldn't ask. That wasn't something he'd been brought up to talk about, in front of his parents at least. It wasn't like the Luthors, everyone knew how rich they were. He wondered if there would be a way to ask later or if Harry just had enough saved money to pay for a bit of extravagance.

Martha frowned and looked at her husband. Jonathan hadn't expected that to say the least but he was their guest. "Martha," Jonathan hoped to defer to his wife but she just as uncertain about the subject as him. Jonathan's pride couldn't take the blow until Harry spoke up.

"My Godfather gave me some money as a thank you gift for you. We don't have to stay the whole day." Harry conceded. "I'm just not really sure what to do with it. Um, he suggested a night out, I don't know." Harry sighed. He was already making a mess of things.

Clark looked torn. He wanted to stay but he knew his parents weren't ready to take money. He sighed, he knew to them family was family and taking money from them wasn't something they wanted to do. "If we're going to see the town, we should head out." Clark suggested hoping to break the mood.

"Right." Jonathan agreed relieved to step away from the subject.

Harry shrugged and they helped with the luggage as they moved out of the airport. Harry frowned, he still didn't want to keep the money, and it didn't feel right. When the luggage was firmly secure (which wasn't rather difficult seeing as Harry didn't have much of anything), they all piled in. Harry added rather absently. "If you do ever want to go out though, alone, whatever or something different, don't hesitate to ask."

Martha nodded toward Harry and hoped that the subject would come up again.

Clark shook his head as he sat next to Harry. Would his parents ever change? He wondered, half amused. He looked over Harry.

"So Harry, what school do you go to?" He asked wondering where he went to school.

"Um," Harry paused looking a bit nervous. "It's a really great private school. Invitation only and my mum and dad went there." Martha's face seemed to brighten at the mention of Harry's mother.

"I remember hearing something about that as a girl. It's a very well kept secret isn't it? Is there some type of rule that makes all of the students and alumni talk vaguely or avoid the subject? Your parents use to do that. I remember asking Lily, she told me the place was called Hogwarts of all things!" Martha laughed. The others joined in, Harry more relieved at that they thought the name was a joke.

He went along with it though since it wasn't much of a lie, muggle laws and all. "Yep, I could get expelled for telling the wrong person." He said half-serious. He didn't really think he would but he never knew. He wished Hermione were there for the moment, she would probably know. He looked around with exaggerated movement, "In fact, I don't think I should have even mentioned that!" He said in a loud exaggerated whisper. The interior filled with laughter.

Clark turned and smiled; he could grow to like his cousin.

The afternoon in Metropolis was a bit more eventful then anyone had expected. Harry had ended up buying a few souvenirs and taking more photographs, from a few newly purchased disposable cameras, than Clark thought possible in such a short amount of time.

There were names that Clark couldn't catch, even with super hearing, in the few mumbles that escaped Harry's mouth as he weighed what he purchased. Clark himself had bought a shirt or two while trying to get Harry to buy a few as well. Clark was a bit surprised to find the clothes that Harry was wearing were his usual set for the summer. He convinced him to buy a few form fitting clothes.

Eventually, they found themselves heading back to Smallville, with Harry eating an American style hotdog. All in all, everyone hoped nothing went wrong during the visit.

Clark hoped no metahumans or meteorites came up. Harry hoped no wizards or errant house elves dropped by unexpectedly.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry set his trunk in a guest room; it was small but bigger than the second bedroom that had become his in merry ole England. Harry felt his emotions darken and decided that thinking about that wasn't the best thing to do. He set his things down and wondered when Sirius would arrive; all he had was clothes, a few knickknacks, and his wand. His godfather held the rest.

The guest room was small but comfortable, unlike the Dursley's home. Petunia kept everything too clean, to the point of obsession, and it didn't feel like a home.

The small room was decorated with pale yellow wallpaper with white borders. The room was decorated with bed, drawer and an antique—by Dursley standards, although it looked to be just a few years old––television set on an old wooden white stand. Harry placed his things in the drawers and was happy to spot a closet, even though it was small and he didn't have enough items for it, he was sure he could hide his things (magical items) there should his godfather gave them to him if it was empty.

Harry half-sat half-lied back on the worm, comfortable blue white comforter and reached for the pillow. It felt nice to just relax for a moment. There was a word for what he felt but he'd forgotten it he realized. He brain felt too tired to see if he'd actually forgotten it. So, Harry James Potter relaxed.

Harry wasn't aware that he had dozed off until he heard the knock at the door. He felt groggy and sat up with a soft "Uh?" as his reply. It must have been loud enough to be heard because the door to the bedroom opened and Clark stepped in.

Clark looked at Harry, his cousin was looking dazed, sleepy and with his hair sticking in every direction known to man. He was jetlagged. Clark thought. He looked at his cousin a second longer and realized he saw a trace of a scar behind parted fringe. Harry became more aware of him seeing him and flattened his bangs.

Clark gave Harry a sheepish smile and cleared his throat. "Uh, dinner's ready, Harry."

Harry nodded, glasses slipping down his nose a bit. "I'll be right there, as soon as I get feeling back in my legs." Harry moved to get up, Clark helped him up and Harry grimaced at the tingling in his legs. He looked at Clark in mock seriousness. "Remind me never to do that again." 

Clark smiled. "Yeah, well come on. You'll walk most of it off. I'm just worried mom will think you got drunk or something."

He heard his cousin laugh as they made their way out of the room. Clark helped steady Harry just a bit as feeling shot through his leg. He hated sleeping limbs. As they made their way to the dining table, Harry heard Clark absent mindedly inform him what their dinner was.

Jonathon and Martha were sitting at the table and Harry took a seat next to Clark. He smiled, this was a family dinner he usually had with people who were not his family (the Weasleys) and although he loved them like family, he had wanted one with family that didn't consider him a freak and burden for some time. Although, this was just his first meal with the Kents, Harry could tell the differences between them and Dursleys.

"Harry, didn't hear from you all afternoon. What were you doing?" Martha asked curiously.

"Uh, sleeping." Harry admitted. No one looked surprised.

"I hate flying across time zones," Jonathon chimed in. "Jet lag always gets me, even if it's just an hour, it gets me thrown off." Harry nodded, not surprised either now that he was more awake.

The family ate in silence for a moment before Martha asked, "Harry, so what is your favorite subject in your mysterious school?" 

Clark took a bite of his beef as he watched Harry nearly choke on his own mouthful. His cousin waved off any concern that they might have but he chewed until Clark was certain that the food wasn't any more solid than their drinks. Harry was stalling, he realized, as Harry reached for his cup of coke and took a slow, long, drawn out sip.

Harry looked sheepishly at them and replied, nervously. He didn't look away from them but replied, a bit hesitant. "DADA."

Clark knew he wasn't the only one with a curious expression. His mother wasn't abated by the tone of voice Harry gave nor the obvious "I know what you want but let's talk about something else!" body language. "What does that stand for?" She asked politely.

Harry had taken the brief pause to cram his mouth with beef, mashed potatoes, gravy and possibly green beans, it was hard to tell and Clark wasn't using his x-ray vision to find out. There were just thing no man should look at, like a mouth full of food. Still, Clark was impressed by how fast Harry had gotten all that food into his mouth, he suspected that he would have gotten a bit of the roll in there had his mother not stopped him.

Harry chewed, with difficulty, Clark noted and winced as he heard a few joints in Harry's jaw popped until Harry swallowed a small amount. He then replied, mouth still full of half-chewed and semi-visible, even though he blocked his mouth with his hand, food.

What came out was mostly tangible but common sense filled in the gaps of unrecognizable syllables. Clark heard: "Drepese abest de darf arfts." He frowned but he quickly thought that 'drepese' sounded like defense; 'abest' he gave it a go but failed; 'de' was the, easily enough; 'darf' sounded like dark or barf if he thought about it and 'arfts' sounded a bit like arts with an unwanted f.

"An art class?" Harry's eyes brightened; he nodded vigorously before shrugging.

Clark heard Harry swallow, grimacing. "Sort of, it is sort of an art and defense class. You know, the art of defending yourself." Harry smiled widely, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. "It's been called that since the time of my head master, Defense Against the Dark Arts, I mean. It's tradition." He stated calmly and light heartedly, as if he could now speak freely.

"A few of my teachers tried to kill me a couple of times but I've learned a few useful things." Harry's tone was laced with humor and remorse. Clark understood, except in the more literal sense of the word 'kill'. He was certain Harry was being figurative.

Jonathan smiled at Harry and asked about the school's sport teams. By the time Harry had told them about it and his involvement, no one knew what sports the school offered or what Harry played. The Kents didn't think it was polite to interrupt Harry as he spoke with such enthusiasm until he mentioned the different teams and the players.

Harry fell silent for a moment and Clark wasn't quite sure what had gotten over Harry.

Harry smiled sadly at them. "A school mate died this year." He explained. It was left at that, but Clark caught Martha gaze at Jonathan with a worried and concerned look.

Clark quickly changed the topic, hoping to break the tense atmosphere. "So, Harry, what's your least favorite subject?" Clark proceeded to babble as well hoping to distract Harry from any grief at the dinner table that seemed to be from their questioning.

Harry managed to answer somewhere in the babbling. Clark babbled about his ill-fated sports attempts and bullies to an extent. Harry listened and picked listlessly at his food glad that Clark was distracting him away his guilt-grief induced slump. Dessert came and Harry managed to eat a few bites of his dessert. The family fell into an easy silence, Harry not tense but not completely unsettled from the sudden emotional outburst he experienced.

Eventually, dessert was cleared and the family headed to their separate ways. Harry was sulking but did not divulge anything to his new found relatives.

Clark yawned. He looked a bit worried at Harry but did not say anything other than, "Good night, Harry. Maybe we could go to town or something tomorrow?" He suggested.

Harry smiled slightly. "Okay. G'night, Clark."

Harry sighed, and went into the guest bedroom. He pulled out a few pieces of clothing that would serve as pajamas and changed into them. He was about to turn on the television, curious as to what was on American TV, even this late at night, when he heard someone knock at his door.

"Come in!" He called a bit loudly. When the door opened, he saw Martha and Jonathan came in.

Jonathan looked at him seriously. "Are you alright, Harry? I mean about," He waved his hand. They all knew it meant the moment where the conversation had gotten uncomfortable.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He assured them, even though he was certain he would at least have one dream pertaining to the cemetery and Cedric's death or the TriWizard's Tournament.

His Aunt/Cousin Martha looked at him with worry. "If you want to talk about any time at all, just knock in the middle of the night if you have too, we'll listen or talk or just go out and get some ice cream."

He nodded, wanting for anything but this. He still wasn't comfortable enough to talk about this with them or anyone yet. The Kents bid Harry a good night and left with a final glance at him.

Harry didn't know what to do with this and hoped they'd forget the subject.

Harry lay down and fumbled with the television. He watched a few late night programs and knew he was avoiding sleep. Harry had settled down around 2 am, watching a movie.

Around 3, eyes heavy but resistant, Harry heard a light knock at his window. He jumped up, sleep leaving his eyes. He pulled out his wand and moved carefully toward the window. He couldn't see through the blinds but with a deep breath he drew it back swiftly, wanted at the ready.

Harry smiled, widely at the sight. Sirius was wearing new robes, although he was still too thin, and struggling with Harry's trunk. Harry opened the window. Somehow maneuvered the trunk into the bedroom and then his godfather.

"Harry," He called affectionately. Harry smiled again, happy to be able to speak with his godfather without worry for a moment.

"Snuffles," He returned with all seriousness.

Sirius gave a small bark of laughter. "So, Harry have the muggles been?" He asked, taking a seat on the bed.

Harry woke up to a loud knock on the door followed by a surprised "Oops!"   
Harry looked at the blurry figure at the door before groping for his glasses and slamming them on. He spotted Clark, fully dressed and looking like he had recently taken a shower, with an abashed expression. Looking at what Clark was looking at, Harry spotted a hole in the door. Harry's sleep fuddled mind didn't process Clark and the door being odd. Clark looked at Harry and blushed. "Um, mom's wanted to know if you were up and um breakfast is ready!" Clark left quickly, leaving Harry staring blankly at the spot he'd once stood.

"Huh?"

The dog under the bed poked his head out, looked at his godson and gave a low whine. Harry looked at Padfoot.

"Wha'?" Padfoot sighed and nudged Harry out the door before going back under the bed.

Confused, Harry managed to stumble into the kitchen where Aunt Martha served him a breakfast with a look of concern. By the time Harry's brain finally managed to catch up, he had realized that his godfather was under the bed, it was near noon, and that he felt exhausted. Harry scowled before he cursed time zones and talkative godfathers.


	3. Chapter 3

Note from Effie: I'm sorry this is so late but I've been having a hard time thinking ideas for this fic! It's been such a long time since I've seen Smallville. The current seasons don't make any sense to me anymore and I'm trying to pull on my old memories. Don't worry though. I won't abandon this fic. I enjoy writing it and I'll catch up on my old Smallville episodes again to refresh my memory so I can crank out these chapters better.

Enjoy! And remember, review, it really does matter, especially if I make a major error!

-----------------------------------

When Harry managed to make his way back to his room he stopped when he saw the hole in the door. He was positive there hadn't been one there yesterday. He wondered if he should fix it. He was not being tracked, in fact, he bet he was safer here than with the Dursleys, as only a select number of individuals knew Harry was staying with the Kents. Besides, he wasn't sure he hadn't caused it even though he was sure he'd remember running into the door.

He didn't have his wand with him but it was in the room. He closed the door and looked under the bed. His godfather was sleeping in dog form. "Padfoot?" Snore. "Sirius?" Snore. How the heck had his godfather survived a year on the run? Well, he wasn't in any danger here. Harry thought. "Sirius!" He hissed louder.

His godfather stirred just the slightest. All right, he would have to do this alone. He left his sleeping godfather under the bed, placed the food he had taken from his breakfast and kitchen on the nightstand on the right of his bed. Harry snagged one more piece of bacon before grabbing his wand and heading toward the door. Should he repair it or not? The important question: Was it there before? It wouldn't do to suddenly have a repaired door if his relatives knew it wasn't solid.

Harry tried to think of yesterday. He could remember Metropolis and dinner but he couldn't really remember the door. He sighed and tapped the door. Decisions, decisions…

---------------

Clark looked at his father. Jonathan was unhappy. "There's a hole in the door?" He asked his son.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure how that happened." Clark said. "Just knocked too hard, I guess. It hasn't happened before, you know that dad."

"I know, Clark." His father assured him. "I know accidents happen but I'm just worried that Harry will wonder why there's suddenly a hole in the door."

"I want you to take Harry out to town. Introduce him to your friends. I'll fix the door in the mean time."

"Okay. I wanted Pete to meet him today anyways." Clark told his father.

Clark found Harry groomed and napping dressed on the fully made bed. He wondered how much sleep his cousin had gotten during the night. He had been a zombie that morning. Of course, Clark could've sworn he'd heard a dog whine that morning so who was he to judge.

Looking back at the door, Clark looked bemused. This didn't make any sense. He had broken the door that morning hadn't he? He looked at Harry's sleeping figure and decided to let him sleep longer, if the door wasn't broken his Dad didn't need to fix it.

He touched the door to make sure it was indeed not broken. He tested it with his X-ray vision. Still, nothing wrong. He needed to talk to his Dad.

------

Unbeknownst to Clark, Sirius Black, who had long changed from his dog form and was peering closely at his actions. When Clark closed the door, Sirius crawled out from under the bed finding it more difficult than he remembered it as a dog. He had eaten the food Harry had brought him and was now bored out of his mind. He looked at the door once more and at his godson. Something was up with that. A grin settling on his face, Sirius woke up his godson.

--------------------

Harry glared at Sirius. "What?" He growled.

"Your cousin's a weird bloke for staring at the door so long when he was here or you did something."

Harry pushed his god father off, moving away so wouldn't be tickled again. "I fixed it. Didn't think they'd notice."

"Did you break it?"

"I'm not sure."

"I guess that's alright then."

"Oh." Harry squinted at the clock. 

"Here,"

"Thanks." He said with a smile as his godfather handed him his glasses.

"It's late." He noted.

"It's two in the afternoon." Sirius remarked looking at Harry like he was the insane one. "You should be sleeping in."

"I was." He snapped.

"You were napping."

"Same thing." 

Sirius shook his head. Hair escaping his messy ponytail he'd made before he assaulted Harry. "They are not. You sleep in because you feel like it. You nap because you're tired." He explained. "I use to sleep in all the time." He remarked.

Harry pushed his godfather off the bed. "I _am_ tired." He grumbled. "So let me take my nap and go eat my food or something." He complained.

"Already did." Harry gave him the remote. "Don't turn it up. Watch some muggle television ,just don't blow it up." He was about to lie down when he thought better of it. "Let me tell you how to use it first."  
---------

"What do you mean the door's not broken?" 

"It's not broken. Not even a dent." Clark said unable to believe it himself.

"Are you sure your broke it in the first place?"

"Yes. I'm positive."

"Or you sure you just didn't think you broke it?" 

"No, Dad. I pretty sure I broke it." He looked unsure for a moment. "Except, I thought I heard a dog whine this morning too and there isn't any dog in Harry's room."

"Are you sure you're alright?" His father asked looking concerned. "First you think the door's broken but it isn't and now you're hearing dogs."

"I feel fine." Clark protested.

"Why don't you rest a bit, you said Harry's sleeping. You could sleep a bit yourself. Visit Pete later today. I'll invite him over." Jonathan clarified.

"But I'm not," he was cut off by his father's hand.

"Get some rest, Clark." He reached out touched his son's forehead. "You feel warmer."

Clark touched his own forehead wondering why of all times he would be developing a sickness he's never gotten before. "I've never been sick before." he said.

"But you have been under a lot of stress this year." Jonathan argued. "Even you get stressed Clark. It sometimes takes a while to catch up. Get some rest and then you can go out. Besides, there isn't much you can do with Harry asleep." 

Clark sighed and headed off toward his room, wondering where normality had gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Clark moved away, uncertain of what to make of the door. It had been four days since Harry had arrived and Clark was beginning to suspect he was going crazy. Briefly, he had wondered if this was a new side effect of an emerging power but no signs of such an event came forth.

Three days ago, Pete had come over with Chloe, because his dad refused to let him go out so he had called Chloe. It had gone off well, Chloe was smitten because of Harry's accent-- although he seemed oblivious to it all-- and Pete had liked Harry. It had been a good day filled with laughter and confusion on Harry's part because he missed out on a lot of pop culture references and what Clark had assumed was normal.

"How can you not know about that? It was all over the news! I check the BBC! You can't tell me you don't know who Lex Luthor is!" Chloe had cried surprised that Harry didn't know anything about Luthor Corp or the Luthors at all.

"My school doesn't have television." Harry replied easily enough, ignoring the horrified looks on their faces.

"The Internet at least." She argued again.

"Don't check it for news."

"Newspaper."

"Not in the one I read. Mostly local and national news."

"At home!" A triumphant grin because surely the Dursleys had to have a television seeing how Harry had no problem using one.

"Don't really watch it." An uncomfortable pause, "My Aunt doesn't like me watching television even though she lets Dudley." He shrugged. "Dudley would sit on me anyways." he gave a shudder.

Clark shifted uncomfortably wondering what to make about the remark. Chloe didn't seem oblivious either, and seemed to realize the state Harry's clothing as well. An awkward silence had settled over.

"So, Harry, who are you friends?"

"Hermione and Ron, they're brilliant." Harry began; he didn't seem at all hesitant to speak about them. Thankfully, the rest of their visit went on smoothly as Clark could hope.

The rest of his day unfortunately had become weirder. Harry had received a letter from someone somehow although Clark hadn't seen a mail truck all day. Not factoring in the fact that it late in the evening, Clark was at a loss. When the logical answer hit him, Clark felt relieved. "He must have brought it with him." He laughed out loud. "Someone must have told him to open it later." he said triumphantly. Clark felt much better after that.

Later, when Clark was walking to his room when he heard something strange. He looked out his window and saw Harry lugging in an old trunk into his room from his window. Clark blinked wondering what in the world was going on. He quickly went downstairs making sure to make noise so Harry could hear him and not startle him.

He knocked and waited. He waited a bit more wondering why his cousin's room was so quiet. When he was about to look in with X-ray vision, Harry opened the door looking a bit flustered.

"Clark,"

"Harry,"

"Yes?"

"Where did you get that trunk?"

Harry looked around. "I don't have any trunk." He said quickly. "I never had a trunk. You can ask Aunt Martha, I haven't gotten anything since I came here." He said. "My godfather's going to send a few of my things later but not today."

"What about the letter, yesterday?" Clark asked to assure himself he wasn't going crazy.

"I brought it with me." Harry said confirming Clark's suspicions. "I don't have a clue about this 'trunk' though. Sorry, mate." Harry said nervously.

Clark's mood plummeted. That had been the best of the days.

Two days ago, Harry had hauled himself around the farm in an attempt to help the Kents,

"Alright, Harry, can you move the hay?" Jonathan asked.

"Just show me," Harry said confidently. Clark nodded at his father indicating that he'd show Harry. That was Harry's first attempt at the farm life. Harry found the exercise tiring but wouldn't use magic; besides Harry figured it couldn't be that much different than talking care of the Dursley's yard.

Three bales of hay missing ("I'll find them!"), two ruined sacks of fertilizer ("I'll pay for them!"), a pitchfork embedded in the side of the barn ("I'll fix that!") and Harry had been assigned easier tasks that Clark had as a young boy. Harry had thankfully done that easily without any property damaged, missing, or ruined. ("Thank Merlin!")

Clark wanted to laugh and shake his head. He had no idea how Harry had lost the bales or how he had done some of the things but it was clear that he wasn't meant for farm life.

Harry stood looking out of place as he waited for more instructions. "Come on, Harry," Clark called. "You can help me feed the cows." Harry followed looking unsure. After the cows had been fed, Harry looked ready to faint.

"You alright?"

"It's hotter here than in England. I just need to rest." Clark let Harry sit down in a shady spot in the barn before he went to find his father.

"Dad!" Jonathan kept on using the machine. "DAD! Dad! Dad! DA-AD!" The machine drowned his voice. Clark was at his father's side in an instant trying to get his attention.

Jonathan nearly jumped out of his skin because of it but it had the desired effect.

Jonathan powered down and turned to Clark trying to keep his face neutral. "Yes, Clark?"

"Can I take Harry inside? He's tired."

"Of course. That's why you had to stop me?"

"What? No, I just wanted to know what to have him do after the break." Jonathan looked at Clark like he was crazy. "I know, I know but he'll want to do something. "

"Have him take care of the yard, maybe he's better at gardening." Clark nodded and was gone in a blur. Jonathan shook his head, he couldn't see his son when he went his full speed but he shouldn't just blur. Someone could see him. They would need to have a talk about that later.

When Clark got to Harry, he made sure to stop before he was seen. A few seconds later and Clark smiled. "Dad says we can take a break. Come on, I think there is lemonade in the kitchen. Just remember to wash you hands." He told Harry as they walked to the house.

Harry nodded. "I know the rules. Wash you hands, don't bring in any dirt, and don't bring anything inside that belongs outside or they'll be blood." Harry scowled. "One dirty table cloth that was Dudley's fault anyways and I'm not even allowed to have something to drink in one of the normal cups."

That wasn't what caught Clark's attention. "Blood?"

Harry gave him a look. "They weren't serious about that, at least I don't think they were. Aunt Petunia smacked my hands a couple of times but I never got any blood letting wounds." He shook his head. "You should have seen have she freaked out when I cut my hand on the rose bushes. She refused to let me in the house and drove me to the hospital." He paused. "After she sprayed me with the hose."

Clark chose not to comment because Harry seemed to be rather fond of that memory. He'd tell his mother. She'd probably want to here that. They found the kitchen empty. They washed their hands, had lemonade and talked about nothing in particular.

"I guess I should go back and help, Dad." Clark said after a few more minutes of rest.

"Do you want me to do something?" Harry asked hoping they wouldn't leave him in the house alone. Martha had gone into town and wasn't expected for a few hours.

"Dad was wondering if you anything about gardening. You could try that." He said keeping out the obvious fact that Harry was better away from the farm. Harry nodded.

"Just tell me where the tools are," Harry said.

It was nearly two hours later when the Kents were done with their day on the farm and Harry was finishing weeding when Clark found him. The three men cleaned up and relaxed until Martha came home.

"Hello, Aunt Martha." Harry said smiling. Today had been some weird form of bonding for the men and Martha was feeling like she had missed something important. She greeted Harry with equal enthusiasm.

"How was your day?" She asked as they shuffled groceries into the kitchen.

"Good," Harry said with a true smile. "Helped work on the farm and the garden." He looked a bit embarrassed. "I wasn't very good."

"I'm sure you did fine." Martha assured him. "Now, would you like something specific for dinner?" She asked glad to see her family getting along. Harry promptly took reins of the dinner plans and ended up kicking Martha out of the kitchen. When Clark checked up on his cousin he was surprised to see Harry working efficiently and without any problems.

"Out!" Harry ordered as he brandished a wooden spoon. "You can't see what I'm making. It's a surprise." Clark left with a smile on his face and his hands up in surrender.

When dinner came, Harry's commandeer kitchen served them an English meal fit for several men, possibly a king, and a boatload of dessert. It had been good but too much.

"I'm sorry!" Harry again apologized that when he realized that he had used a lot of ingredients for the food.

"It's no problem." Martha had assured him while storing the extra food. She wouldn't be cooking dinner for the next few days given the amount of food in the refrigerator. "Why did you make so much food in the first place?" She asked.

"Dudley likes to uh play with the food more or less and ruins a lot of it. It helps to have extra food." He shrugged again. "Then when I helped Mrs. Weasley, one of my best friend's mother, it was for a lot of people so I never really had to cook small meals." He looked embarrassed. "I kind of let habit take over. I'm sorry. I'll pay for the groceries next time you buy them."

That had ended that portion of the evening.

After dinner, Clark had spotted a dog in Harry's room. Carefully walking towards it, Clark checked the room from top to bottom only to find no sign of any dog. X-ray vision had not helped but although he had the feeling he was being watched. It stopped when he left the room. "I'm seeing things again."

Clark heard a low, long whine as he exited. Clark made sure to take some aspirin that night.

When he had made a midnight stroll to the kitchen, Clark found the refrigerator fully stocked with food. After taking his glass of water and another pair of pills, Clark grabbed some of the food to make sure it was really there. In the morning, the refrigerator was in the same condition it had been after dinner. Except for the odd fact that Clark had an orange that hadn't been there before, nothing else indicated that Clark was not going insane.

Clark had come to question the orange's existence even though everyone had assured him it was there. Surely, it was sane man's assurances of a crazy man's delusions.

Yesterday had been the last straw on the proverbial camel's back. After another dog sighting, and what he believed was its laughter at him, Clark swore, swore he had seen several people flying on broomsticks in the distance. In robes none the less. Clark had taken another pair of aspirins and went to bed early.

Today was the return of Clark's sanity at least because everything had gone back to normal. No people flying on broomsticks, no errant letters, and no mysterious dog sightings. No, today Clark was taking Harry clothes shopping on his mother's orders. Today would be normal! It just had to be!

He had a bottle of aspirin in his pocket just in case.

-----

Harry's POV

Harry didn't know what was wrong with his cousin but it didn't look good. They had been on the farm for the last few days with Harry doing the smaller tasks. Unfortunately, Clark looked paranoid to the point that he resisted yelling "Constant Vigilance!" Maybe it was Sirius' fault. He mused.

The last few days Sirius had been running amok on the farm under his father's invisibility cloak. After the disastrous attempt to help with farming and what he called "Kitchen Overload", Harry had forbidden Sirius from following him.

Sirius had laughed himself silly at Clark's paranoid movements. He whined in dog form whenever the boy was in earshot. He swore it was only the silencing spells that kept the household from overhearing their nightly arguments (which Sirius always won). Finally, at his wits' end, Harry planned on getting his godfather a bit of freedom while he was out shopping.

At least, Harry mused, his vacation was going wonderful. Although, he was a mite nervous about buying clothing. He did not have any delusions on what a town called "Smallville" contained. He had seen its size as they passed through and did not see any shopping centers near buy. He did not doubt that the town lacked stores but he did doubt the variety of stores in the town.

He briefly wondered if he could convince Clark that they should go to Metropolis again.

It took a few hours to get to and fro though and unless Clark could fly, Harry didn't think they would be going back again soon. There was also the small matter that they were going to the movies that night.

As nice as things were going for him though, Harry knew something was bound to go wrong.

Sirius POV

Sirius looked at Clark blur away in the distance. He wasn't going to say anything yet. No, he would overlook this for now. Harry was happy, looking like Sirius had imagined he should be, and the Kents were the real deal. Sirius recognized Martha's scent, for all he knew the Kents didn't know anything about Clark's abilities. They hadn't hurt them and Clark was acting like a normal teenager abilities aside. He smiled slightly, besides it was fun messing with the kid.

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Review! They make me happy.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I'm very sorry this chapter took so long but I've been trying to get this out for months and couldn't come up with anything I thought was good. I'm finally happy with this chapter, I hope you all like it.

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The truck tumbled along the dusty country road, bouncing with the uneven ground as the dust behind it trailed like a bride's train. Inside, two dark haired boys could barely be seen. One was cheerfully chatting, seemingly unaware of the shorter boy's death grip on the door's arm rest and apparent mission to become one with the seat as he drove. The other was looking at the apparent unending rows of corn around them, panicked.

"-tonight with mom and dad." Clark said laughing. "I mean, you should have seen the way mom jumped when the little girl turned out to be an old lady."

"Um, Clark." Harry began. Eyes drifting again along the road and the blurred green that were even indecipherable to his trained—from seeking and dueling––eyes. "Clark,"

"Yeah, Harry?" Clark asked, turning his head to look at him. Harry clutched the arm rest harder, knuckle turning while.

"Can you look at the road?" Clark gave a confused look but glanced back quickly before turning his attention back to him. Harry decided it was probably wiser to say something quickly than keep his cousin waiting and die in an automobile accident. "How much longer do you think this will take?" He asked, fearing they had fallen into some magical hell of unending corn stalks in all directions except the road.

"Not much longer before we hit the main road." Clark said cheerfully. "It usually doesn't take this long but since we went to the farmer's market this way is quicker."

Harry nodded. The market had been interesting but now he wished it had been in Smallville that week if only so that Clark would drive like a sane man. "Where are we going to eat lunch?"

"A small diner," Clark said as if it were simple. Harry gave Clark a perplexed gaze. Harry had not seen much of Smallville but it indeed lived up to its name on many things. Small was not the kind of small Harry was used to given the amount of space available to Americans. "It's run by a few friends Mom knows from church," he added. "It's not that bad. You cannot come to here and not eat at a diner." He said empathically.

"As long as it's good. I'm starving." Clark smiled.

"Don't worry, it's better than anything you can get at Metropolis, believe me." Harry, having only eaten that hotdog, couldn't verify the validity of this statement.

It was around this point of the conversation that Harry spotted the main road.¬¬––

iThank, Merliln!/i –– and Clark began driving like he wasn't on a suicide mission.

--

When the town came into view, Harry had already been told what he would order. Clark looked extremely excited about today and he didn't know the reason. The truck pulled to a slow stop along the downtown portion of Smallville. It was a busy Sunday afternoon and Harry was surprised to see so many people. They were most he'd seen in a days.

Passing several small shops, most of which had not yet opened, Clark led him to a slightly crowded shop. Entering, Harry spotted several small tables in between several booths. Clark smiled at the hostess who meted them.

"Hey, Mandy." he greeted to the blonde haired girl. The girl's face turned settled into a sour expression.

"Clark," She barked, her voice deep and clearly unhappy. She gazed at Harry. "Who's the pipsqueak?" Harry bristled but Clark merely laughed.

"He's my cousin, Harry." Harry smiled politely at Mandy who merely gave him a casual glace.

"The usual?" She asked Clark.

"Yeah, that'd be good." She didn't bother answering just led them to a table facing the street. Harry and Clark sat as she handed them a couple of menus.

"Billy will be with you in a minute." She said in a bored tone. "Remember to enunciate." She told Clark with a warning glare before giving a fake smile to Harry. "It was good meeting you, Henry."

"Harry."

"Whatever." She said as she left. Clark smiled at her as she left and Harry gave Clark an annoyed look.

"Don't mind her, Mandy. She's always like that." Clark said as his grin turned sheepish.

"Who is she?" He asked curiously.

"We go to school together," Clark said before beaming. "we'll go after lunch to the school and see it. How does that sound?"

Harry nodded. "Sounds good, mate." He said honestly curious. He didn't know what muggle secondary schools were like, much less those in America. He couldn't quite remember how they were suppose to be aside from basic structure. Harry frowned, it was times like these that he often disliked the fact that the muggle and magical world were so different. He looked at Clark and felt something with in him twist.

Why hadn't he gone to the Kents? They were the family he always wanted when he had grown up. The simple answer was Dumbledore. He knew. Dumbledore expected Voldemort to come back and had sent Harry to be raised in England. Secrecy was another reason. Petunia had already known about magic but it was clear Martha hadn't and if she had died Harry wasn't sure the blood protection would extend to Clark as it would with Dudley.

"What's wrong?" Clark asked, interrupting his thoughts. Harry looked up. "Don't say nothing." Clark said.

"Just thinking about mum," he said honestly. "I wonder how she would have liked being here."

Clark nodded. "I sometimes wonder what my parents were like and what they would've thought about here." Clark said eyes slightly saddened.

"I don't understand." Harry said giving him a confused glance.

"I'm adopted." Clark said easily. Harry's face was surprised, quite surprised by the news. Clark waited for his reaction but something like understanding went through his face before he spoke again.

"So Aunt Martha and Uncle Jonathan aren- " Clark gave him a sharp look.

"They're my parents. Not my biological parents but my parents. I just wonder about them." He said looking at Harry as if waiting for a different reaction.

Harry looked shamed. "I didn't mean it like that." He said his eyes drifting. "It's just a complicated thing." He finished looking frustrated. "I just thought for the longest time I didn't have family." He gave him a smile. "Then I found out I had a godfather recently and now you lot." He said looking odd. "It's just a lot sometimes."

Clark nodded, relaxing. "Mom would sometimes talk about you but I guess it didn't really hit me I had a cousin until now." It was at that moment that Billy arrived. Harry ordered quickly from the large nosed, red haired teen and looked fascinated as he rattled to order off to the cook, whose Jamaican accent sounded stranger more than his English one did in the small diner.

--

Clark smiled at Harry; he looked very interested in Smallville High. His eyes peering through his dark rimmed glasses couldn't hide his curiosity. Clark was glad Harry hadn't changed how he had acted around him after he had discovered he was adopted. Looking at Harry, baggy clothes and looking extremely grateful toward his family, that Clark didn't regret his family for one bit. Strange powers and meteorites aside, he knew he had grown up normal and in a happy home.

The day had been doing great so far. Clark was proud to say he had not taken any pills at all. He was hoping the day would continue like that but of course things never went that way with him. As soon as he had though the day would go one well, he knew Murphy's Law would be enacted that very moment and day. Things were too calm for his life and on his trip with his cousin into town would need to be ruined one way or another.

It did not surprise Clark at all then to see a white snowy owl screeching at him with a letter attached to its leg. In clear green letters his name was spelled out. Harry looked at the bird with a panicked gaze and tried calling for it, it appeared, and Clark would have not have heard it without his super hearing because Lex Luthor chose that very moment to tear into the parking lot.

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AN: What did you think? Like it? Hate it?


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